Pining From Narnia
by The Virtue of the Bored
Summary: Jock!Kurt and Fancy!Dave AU- When Kurt can't come out, and Dave doesn't acknowledge him as anything other than Finn's little brother, he turns to the only thing that understands- Tumblr. Kurtofsky. Rated for swearing and eventual smut.
1. Prologue

"Okay, so I officially call this meeting of the official Glee Dudes to order." Finn banged his coke can off the glass coffee table and grinned. "So, we're going to take nationals this year, right?"

"Tell me I didn't drive over here for this," Puck said with a bored sigh.

"No! We should pick songs and dances and stuff too. Be prepared"

Puck rolled his eyes. "Ever since you started banging Berry, you've been a bossy dick."

"Hey shut up man."

"Now, now boys," piped up a voice from beside Mike.

The voice was a low soft drawl, originating from a prim, cross legged figure. He was quite easily the best dressed in the group; a long black t-shirt, skinny grey jeans, and a slate trench-coat folded neatly over his arms. His oak hair had been styled up in to an elegant, wind-swept style (Twilight may have brought the look back, but he made it work on infinitely more levels), and he smiled sweetly at the bickering pair.

His hazel eyes sparkled with a weary amusement.

David Karofsky; the glee club's resident baritone and fashionista, would forever be the voice of reason in these glaringly forced impromptu meetings.

"I'm just saying, a lot of us leave this year, and it's our last chance to prove that New Directions is worth something," Finn said finally.

Puck looked ready to counter that (and really, no would have been surprised if he did), when Carole bustled in with a plate of cookies. "Do you boys want snacks?" She sighed at the mess that littered her coffee table. "Why don't you head on up to Finn's room?"

"It's not wheelchair accessible, Mrs H squared," Artie said shyly.

"Oh, right, of course," she said, blushing a bit.

Dave smiled kindly. "That blouse is cute, Carole."

"Thank you, Davey! I bought it from that discount barn just outside town. But I can't for the life of me find a skirt to match."

"Oh, let me investigate."

"Would you? That would be great. I might end up being a congressman's wife, and I can't even dress myself."

"Please, don't worry about it; by the time I'm done with you, Dolce _and _Gabbana will be jealous of your coordinating skills."

Carole grinned amiably. "Well, after you David!"

"Dude, we're meant to be working out songs and shit!" Finn said with a pout.

"Language, Finn. It'll only be a few minutes," Carole said as she led Dave up the stairs.

Finn huffed and sat back. The conversations quickly dissolved in to talk of games and the new school year. Everything was happening this year. College applications were due in; they were becoming men. And as such, no one was taking this seriously (bar Mike, whose dad had been pushing it since he started high school, and David, who had probably been down for St John's since birth).

Their summer had been awesome, and the New Directions had never been closer. They had went to the beach as a group, seen a copious amount of films… the guys had gaming days; the girls went shopping, Davey doing both.

Finn still had reservations about Dave. He was a nice guy and Rachel's best friend since, like, birth, so Finn really shouldn't have a reason to distrust him.

It's just Davey really didn't _seem _gay. He was still really manly. He was big, and hairy and… okay, well not butch, but kind of. He looked like a man, and gays didn't, did they?

That was probably why Puck liked him so much. He wasn't a lady-boy; he could hold his own in a fight.

Just then, the door opened. A figure in a letterman walked in, taking off his baseball cap. He was flushed (he had clearly been running), and he grinned at the congregation.

"Hey guys."

Finn returned the grin. "Hey Kurt. Have fun with Burt?"

"Yeah, we played baseball for a bit. The old man's got a good arm."

He took the seat Dave vacated, and the idle chatter commenced. Eventually, as it always did, the conversation turned to their favourite topic: girls.

Mike lost his V, Puck and Lauren broke up, Rachel was still a prude… Kurt had nothing to bring to the table but news of a busty waitress at The Milky Bar, who had the "best pair of tits this side of Lima".

"See, Dave has it easy," Artie said, adjusting his glasses.

"I bet gay dudes can get laid whenever they want. Isn't he dating that Blaine kid?" Puck asked.

Finn shook his head. "No. Rach says they're just really close. What is taking them so long?"

"Taking who?" asked Kurt, who had become unwontedly quiet.

"Dave and my mom went upstairs a while ago to talk fashion."

Kurt mumbled something incomprehensible. Puck glared at him. "Dude, don't be a bitch about Davey. He's—"

"Oh, please, like he'd be the bitch. Too aggressive; he'd top." Dave sauntered in, and took the seat next to Puck. "What did I miss?"

"Sex and girls," Artie said.

"Ew… so sorry I missed that. Hi Kurt."

He looked down and shrugged. David sighed. Kurt had never been a talkative one, but he still held conversations with every other member of the Glee club, bar him. Kurt just didn't like him. It was a shame really… Kurt was _definitely _his favourite piece of eye candy.

"Hey dude, your homophobia's showing," Puck said with a glare.

"Puck, please don't," Dave hissed.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Fuck you Puckerman. If he wants someone to be nice to him, he can go see his fucking boyfriend."

If that had been an intentional barb, it had hit the mark. Dave sighed and stood back up. "Yeah, maybe I should leave. I'll be sure to get the rest of this speech from Rach."

"Davey, don't go!" Finn cried.

Dave shook his head and walked over to Kurt. He could see Kurt tense up. Wonderful; another McKinley jock, afraid of the gay. He leaned over him and grabbed his coat and bag and turned away "See you guys."

When the door closed, Puck stood up too. "Fuck it. I'm out of here." He glared at Kurt. "You are such an asswipe."

"Like you can talk!"

"I'm out of here. Laterz bitches." He opened the door and could be heard to yell "wait up! I'll give you a lift!" before the door closed.

Finn huffed again. "Man, Kurt… do you have to make my friends hate you?"

"Hey, if they're going to be sensitive about fuck all, then they can bite me." And with that, he stood up, ramming his hands in to his pocket.

"Where are you going?"

"My room. Bye." He stomped up the stairs, muttering under his breath about Puck being an asshole. He slammed the bedroom door behind him and sighed.

Dave had actually talked to him. He had been right there and—

Why was he so God damn shy around him? A hello would have done. Anything other than something that seemed homophobic. He wasn't! Really! He was the furthest thing from homophobic. He was… well, he was…

It was totally Dave's fault. He was so, so… so fancy! Fancy looking, fancy smelling, fancy acting… and it turned out that Kurt found that to be a very attractive quality.

Four years ago, he developed a crush on Dave Karofsky. About two years ago, he realised he was totally in love with him. This realization was not at all helped by the fact that Finn joined that stupid Glee club. Instead of avoiding Dave like he had planned to, he was forced to see him practically every weekend. And when he didn't…

It got to a severely desperate point when you spent hours sitting on the stair case in your own house, listening to a boy who rarely got a word in edgeways.

Long story short, Kurt was utterly besotted with the boy, and Dave thought he was a homophobic jerk-wad with no social awareness.

Kurt sighed and collapsed on his bed, shedding his letterman on the floor. He was sick of this; every time he messed up with Dave, he was overwhelmed with this need to whine. It made sense really… this was the kind of thing you would bitch about with a best friend. The pretty boy at school didn't like him…

Unfortunately, his best friend was probably Finn. It was sort of funny to him that he was always lumped together with the other jerks on the team, when he himself was ridiculed by them on a daily basis. No, he'd never received slush to the face, but you try being the "adopted cheerleader".

So he was smaller than the others? He was the Kicker! He didn't have to be built like a fucking tank.

Anyway, Finn was his best friend. He wasn't exactly going to be thrilled with Kurt's sudden desire for late night talks over warm milk, or whatever. He especially wouldn't be happy if said talks were centred around Kurt's desire to pin Dave down and—

Oh, fuck off libido.

He knew it was ridiculous. He could just come out. He had fantasised about it. What would it be like to come out and not spend his time looking at girls to keep up appearances? He imagined it would be liberating. He dreamed that it would come with a euphoric weight lifted off his shoulders. In his fondest fantasies, he won the fair squire and all was well.

Of course, the reality was probably disownment, alienation, and Dave floundering off with his boyfriend. Blaine… Blaine… Blaine wasn't a name! He had been subjected to hours of eighties movie that summer, and he knew damn well that 'Pretty in Pink' specifically said it wasn't!

Kurt sighed and logged on to his laptop. The breathy whirring calmed him for a moment, even if it was a temporary thing. He refused to be the whiney, attention seeking Facebook losers with their vague statuses and "I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!" replies.

Yes, Mercerdes, that was aimed at you.

Typing his problems helped. He used to keep a journal until Finn moved in. After that, Kurt decided against keeping anything would prove to be blackmail material later. He started just typing his problems and deleting them, but it didn't help much. Half the point of journal was looking back to see what the common problem was.

He had been putting it off for a while now. Tonight, he would do it.

He was getting a Tumblr.

* * *

**And yes. He does in fact have a Tumblr for you all to follow. Piningfromnarnia. Do it. There's a link on my profile.**

**Reviews are fun.**


	2. Chapter 1

Dave understood more than the most the downfalls of fashion. Being both an avid fan, and a potential employee of the industry, he knew that it didn't matter what you wore; there was always going to be some part of your body he abhorred. Some were easily hidden, but others were more difficult. A flat chest as easily compensated with a riffle technique; wide figures could be slim lined with pinstripes (in moderation, of course—there was fashion forward and then there was looking like a Tim Burton wet dream).

Personally, Dave didn't like his arms. It was an odd thing to hate about one's self, but it was true. His arms were just… unattractive. They were just there as a constant reminder of what the rest of his body looked like. His chest and legs were always hidden under the many layers of clothing he dressed himself in, but his arms weren't as easy to hide. Especially not when the washing machine was busted and he was out of long-sleeved shirts.

In his years at William McKinley High School, no one outside his gym class had seen his arms. No one ever commented anyway, but he still felt the self-conscious waves of worry and he looked at them now.

God damn it.

"Blaine, I don't want to do this," Dave said with a sigh.

Blaine looked over at Dave, and put a hand on his shoulder. "You look amazing, like you always do. Don't think about it."

Dave grip tightened on the steering wheel. Damn it… this was just pathetic; it wasn't like anyone ever paid attention to him anyway. No one would see the flabby, hairy, doughy excuses he called arms. They'd be too busy shopping. This wasn't a big deal. He could do this. It would be fine.

"Courage," Blaine said with a smile.

And that was all he needed; the soft word of encouragement that had become a mantra over the years. Courage. "… Okay." He climbed out the car, and grabbed his side satchel from the back seat. "Come on- we need to get you something that doesn't need a bow tie."

"I don't see what's wrong with them!"

Dave laughed and locked the car. "They're cute. But you're painting a bulls-eye on yourself. It would be nice for you to experience a slush-free first day." He smiled. "That and you'd look hot in some fashionable clothes.

"I… think that's a compliment. More of a slur on my clothes, really…"

Dave laughed once more, and led the way in to the mall.

When Blaine had told him he was moving to Lima, Dave was beyond excited. He loved his Glee friends more than anything, but Blaine had always been his best friend, ever since their dads started working together at the Westerville Law Firm. When his dad left to open his own firm, Dave and Blaine remained close friends. They grew up together—Dave, Rachel and Blaine, the three musketeers, the golden trio, Gene, Donald and Debbie!

Dave still found it amazing that he was always cast as the comic relief, even when he had assigned the Singing in the Rain cast roles himself.

Ultimately, though, geography kept them apart. Weekends were their time; they could shop, see movies, stay over… holidays were the best. But come term time, they were left with two days a week, sometimes less if commitments got in the way. It was a hard time, but it was worth it for those weekends.

But now, after Blaine's parents had the divorce…

So what did this mean in the long run? Well, their dad's would once again be firm partners, and probably football buddies. The Andersons would be moving to Lima permanently, and not all that far from the Berry household. Blaine would move from Dalton to McKinley. It was a silver-lining, even if it was a small one. Blaine and his mother never really got on, but she was still his mother; he took the divorce hard.

Dave had always mothered his friends, but Blaine in particular. Maybe it was the ridiculous height difference, or maybe it was the year gap, but Dave and Blaine had always had that sort of relationship. There was never anything romantic between them.

… Okay, there was that week in sixth grade, and that month they spent at camp years ago, but that was it! Honest.

Blaine wasn't Dave's type. Dave's type was always straight. Every single fucking time he dared to let himself fall for a boy, he was always playing for the other team. It should be so hard to find a gay man in Ohio.

Instead, he always ended up falling for the clearly heterosexual; aggressive, strong… muscled and big. Of course, finding any man bigger than himself was the equivalent of trying to find genuine Prada on the street stalls of New York. He would happily forsake that for someone who didn't expect him to top all the time.

He'd given up on finding love in Ohio; instead, he looked forward to college and Chicago. But for that to happen, he needed to give it his all this year. He had a portfolio to complete, an application to fill out; who had time for love anyway?

"Dave, are you okay?" Blaine asked, putting a delicate hand on Dave's shoulder.

"Musing. Come on; let's go talk you out of those hideous red jeans you're eyeing up."

"You don't let me have any fun!"

* * *

In the end, Dave had been unable to deter him form the scarlet monstrosity. Still, at least he had managed to convince him that getting the yellow ones as well would be like painting a target on his back.

They sat in the food court, eating fries and debating Colin Firth in Mamma Mia.

"He was adorable," Dave said with a fond smile.

Blaine laughed. "It was an embarrassment."

"He played the comic relief."

"And he doesn't do it well. I'm sorry, but he was embarrassing to watch."

He took a drink of his milkshake and shrugged. "You just have no taste."

Blaine stuck his tongue out. "Bathroom break; be right back!"

Dave waved him off, and took a moment to investigate his purchases. A new sketch book, the last of his English text books, a gorgeous scarf…

Honestly, this year was going to drag by; one more year, and he'd be completely free and Chicago-bound.

He heard the shrill sound of the chair next to him being pulled out, and he looked up. He met the gaze of warm blue eyes, surrounded by blonde curl.

Dave grinned. "Hey Brittapuff."

"Davey Bear!" Brit cried, launching at him for a hug.

Dave laughed and hugged her back. "Are you here for school stuff?"

"No! I'm on a date."

Now there was an interesting development. He had been urging Santana to make it official with Brit for a while now, just to let the blonde girl know where she stood. He smiled approvingly. "Great! Anyone I know?"

"Uh, Brit?"

"Hi Kurtle!"

Dave looked up, startled. There he was; Brit's date, looking down at them, clutching their tray of food. Brittany was dating… Kurt Hummel.

… Did he have death wish? Santana was going to kill him for this.

Dave attempted a warm smile. "Hi Kurt."

"Uh, yeah." He said dismissively. "Brit, I thought you were getting a table."

"I did!"

"Well, yeah, but—"

She frowned. "I just wanted to tell Davey about our date."

Kurt looked at Dave, regarding him with an odd curiosity, and some other identifiable emotion that shone in his brilliant blue eyes. Dave offered a cautious smile. "Um… hi?"

Kurt looked down. "Brit, we should eat…"

"Oh! Yeah!" She grinned. "See you later, Davey."

He sighed. "Bye then…"

Not one single, solitary attempt to talk to him as a person; that would make this new relationship difficult to work around. If Brit caught on that her boyfriend didn't like Dave… well, she'd have to make a choice that Dave wasn't sure he'd win.

"Oh, Brittany! Who's this?"

Dave looked up to see Blaine returning.

"Hi Blaine!" she said happily.

That was enough for Kurt. He took hold of Brittany's hand, and pulled her towards a free table on the far side of the food court. Dave watched them walk away, with the vaguest sense of sadness. Blaine returned to his seat, confused by the pair, but otherwise happy

"Well, he was cute… who was he?"

Dave smiled. "Brit's date… that was Kurt Hummel."

Blaine's chocolate eyes widened in apprehension, his mouth falling in to a comical 'o' shape. "So he's the one who—ahh… want me to talk to him for you?" he offered.

"No, it's fine; he won't get laid unless he keeps Brit happy. He can do whatever he wants," he said with a shrug.

Blaine glanced over at the pair, who seemed too preoccupied in conversation to notice their spy. "Still, he is the hottest homophobe you've ever had to deal with."

"No question," Dave said with a laugh. "He's not overtly rude. He's just… standoffish."

In Dave's experience, there were two kinds of homophobe. There was the kind like Kurt, who was docile and sometime amiable, until they were confronted with something that offended their delicate sensibilities. In Kurt's case, his trigger seemed to be Dave; just Dave.

The other kind was overtly judgemental, sometimes violent. In that category, he could firmly place the other McKinley Titans, and his mother…

He often wondered, during Kurt's random spiteful outbursts, what he ever did to earn such an outright hatred. Sometimes, he thought that Kurt had caught on to a past crush…

It was four years ago that Dave Karofsky saw Kurt Hummel for the first time. Kurt had been his first serious crush, but undoubtedly heterosexual. Worse, whenever Dave tried to approach him, Kurt would freeze. As the reaction became more aggressive, Dave was forced to accept that the crush would yield no fruition, and move on.

Maybe that was it; Kurt was afraid he still liked him.

Wonderful.

Dave sighed. "Come on, we better get going."

The pair picked up their trays, disposed of them, and left, happily discussing their plans for the Glee Club auditions, and other clubs Blaine may consider joining.

Kurt watched their retreating figures and sighed. He at least managed to utter a few words to him without clamming up. That had to count as some kind of victory. And since when had Davey had those sexy arms of iron?

He definitely needed to wear short sleeves more often.

He turned his gaze back to Brittany, who just couldn't grasp the situation. She was drinking her strawberry shake with a childish pout. "I don't see why all four of us couldn't have gone on a date! We would have had way more fun!"

"Brit, we're not on a date though."

"Me and 'Tana date like this, so we've got to be."

Kurt resisited the urge to his head off the table; honestly, he could hit that bitch sometimes; her stupidly transparent closet made his closet that harder to deal with. "Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean all shopping trips are dates, you know?"

"Davey was on a date."

… Oh. "He was, huh?" He glanced to where they were sitting. That tiny, hair-gelled pretty boy was the boyfriend Puckerman always brought up? They did seem pretty close. And hadn't Brit called him Blaine?

That still wasn't a damn name! "That's… the boyfriend then?"

"Not yet. But Rachel says soon," Brit said with a knowing nod.

So it was a matter of playing the waiting game. Fan-fucking-tastic. "Yeah, okay then…"

Now there was something to tell Tumblr; the misadventure of his not-a-girlfriend telling his gay crush and his boyfriend that he was taken. Where was the justice, really?

Strangely, he'd actually gained followers, which was kind of weird to think about. It was like people reading his diary or whatever. But screw it; if they got some kind of schadenfreude from it, let them laugh. He was sure to cause some kind of riot with this hellish almost-double date.

And it had helped; he felt a bit lighter after he poured his heart out to the internet. It was cathartic to know he could talk it out and not be judged.

Brittany seemed oblivious to Kurt's inner-musings as she happily danced her fries through the vivid smear of ketchup. She beamed up at him. "I'm really enjoying our date, Kurtle!"

Kurt laughed tiredly. She wasn't going to give in to his way of thinking; it was best to indulge her. "Yeah… me too."

* * *

**Sorry about the delay! There was a wedding, and I was ill... this completely slipped my mind!**

**Anyway, thank you so much for all your kind reviews! And thank you to xechada who went ahead and liked everything... that was so sweet :D**

**Please, follow Kurt's fully functioning Tumblr. And feel free to leave him asks. He'll answer what he can!**

**Review!**


	3. Chapter 2

Dave had been in the hallways for a total of ten minutes, and not one slushy had made contact with his face. It was… a record, really; he'd already seen Rachel sporting a blueberry blush, and Artie with a bright lime stain on his sweater-vest.

'_Maybe no one recognises me_,' he thought as he loaded his books in to his locker.

It wasn't an insane notion; today, in his black tight t-shirt and charcoal trousers, Dave blended in to the crowd. He wasn't wearing his own creations, or some new cutting edge trend from Milan or Harajuku. He looked… normal.

It killed him inside, but it was worth it for the grand unveil. For now, he would blend in to the mundane. It might even give him an ice-free day.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He froze.

"I found my locker," Blaine announced proudly, coming around to lean on the locker next to Dave.

Dave relaxed and smiled at Blaine. "That's great, Bee; so where is it?"

"About… three corridors away, next to the girl's bathroom; it's on the floor, but I saw Brit."

"Oh? Weird." Her locker was in the science department.

"Not really. I think my locker is under her boyfriend's."

Dave paused his unpacking, and then shrugged. "I don't know… sounds about right." He closed his locker and smiled. "So, decided on your audition song?"

"Katy Perry; not even a question!" he grinned. "Last Friday Night is my new favourite song. How about you? Planning on another Rent number?"

"It's a secret; strictly need-to-know, Blainey-bear."

Blaine laughed and fell in to step with him as Dave headed off to homeroom. "You're being awfully cryptic. We're on the same side now."

"I know. But I promised a certain diva that I wouldn't tell anyone."

If this went according to plan, then they'd both be seen in a different light, and that was something they both desperately needed.

He had been surprised when she had approached him out of the blue in the summer, and requested a duet for their auditions. More than surprised, really… he'd been stunned in to silence for a good five minutes, before his rapid agreement.

"Wouldn't it be great to start the year off like that?" she has asked.

And it would. It really would. He was sick of being the last choice; the unwanted one. He knew he could do things with his voice the others couldn't; no one else could do an Elvis or Sinatra number and get away with it. Even if Finn was Schuester's golden boy, he couldn't do 'Feeling Good' justice. Dave could, if only he were given half a chance.

This year, he was getting that shot if he had to pry it from Schue's hands. They clashed over a lot of aspects of the club—the costumes, Dave's song choices, Schuester's Journey fetish… The man just didn't like David. He wasn't going to claim homophobia; it was more like the man tried so hard not to stereotype his kids, but he failed so miserably. Dave was never allowed to sing anything but show-tunes; he was only asked his opinion when Schue was working on costumes. In short, David was the gay one.

That's all he ever was.

He wasn't the only one who hated how things were run. And so, a tiny revolution began. Dave had worked for a month straight on his costume. It had taken so long to work out an appropriate design; it had taken even longer to find the materials.

God, it had to go well.

The warning bell sounded, and the masses hastened away to class. As Dave turned to talk to Blaine, he spotted a tide of red and white. He instantly stepped to the side, shielding Blaine from their sight. Luckily, none of them seemed to pay him much heed. He was just another faceless—

A cold, blue shower hit him in the face, and he made a loud noise of panic. Azimio laughed. "Welcome back, Lady-face!" he cackled, putting the now empty cup on his head. "Now, I don't know about you guys, but I think that hat really pulls the outfit together, don't you?"

The herd of jocks joined in on the laughter, making other rude comments about Dave's appearance. Dave could see Blaine stepping forward; Dave shook his head. There would be no need for fighting here. He refused to lower himself to their level.

There was the sound of rapidly approaching heels down the corridor. Suddenly, Azimio was being spun around to face a very petite, very angry cheerleader. It must have been a strange sight to anyone who wasn't native to the halls of McKinley. The entire team stilled at her presence. At five foot five, Santana Lopez was hardly the poster child of intimidation.

That was, until you were on the receiving end of one of her harshly cutting rants. She glared at Azimio, her perfectly manicured nails spread over her uniform clad hipbones. The way the other looked at her, they might as well be claws.

It was Azimio, in all his masculine bravado, who addressed her. He smirked. "Can I help you with something, Sandbags?"

Dave took the cup from his head and stood back, fully expecting an explosion. Blaine stepped with him, already intrigued by the way Santana straightened.

"Alright, I was going to giving you some harsh words for being a dick to Mi Muchacho, here, but now you've made it personal. So, we're going to welcome the new school year with me putting you back in your place. Sound fun?" She groped at her ample chest. "This is the closest you're ever going to get to touching a woman, so bare that in mind next time you think you can act the big man with me. Got it? Good. Now; I get that you have some body issues, and I understand." She put a hand over her heart and smiled sympathetically. "It must be hard looking like a tank and a rhino did the nasty and birthed you. It's got to be even harder being your size and sporting a lipstick-sized dick. I'm a charitable person; I feel sorry for you."

At each remark, Azimio seemed to shrink back more and more. Dave watched in awe, paying no heed to the blueberry dribbling down his face and soaking in to his shirt. He had known Santana for a good ten years now, ever since his father had conceded and allowed him to take dance classes. Dave was the only boy, and Santana was the only one not afraid of his boy germs. She was never afraid, not even when she was taking on a hulking, violent brute like Azimio Adams.

Her onslaught wasn't done just yet. "But pity is not going to be enough to stop me from making your life hell if you ever touch him again. Dave is with me; live with it; embrace; move on and spread the word. If any of you baboons so much as think about pulling this shit on him again, I'll make sure you that you spend your senior year only able to get your rocks off with each other; no girl in this school will want to touch you when I'm done. Comprende, Blob?"

Azimio rolled his eyes. "Let's bounce guys, before the Manimal gets his real mommy on us."

Dave looked down, shoulders sagging as the chorus of laughter started again. The fleet marched on, probably to ruin the first day of another poor kid. Azimio was one of the few bullies who truly knew how to attack his victim.

The gay jokes didn't work, nor did the comments about his clothes; instead, he picked on his gross size, and his mother…

Santana knew this, and placed a comforting hand on his bare bicep. She smiled. "Wow, bear cub; I'm almost not ashamed to be seen with you today. You look good." She nodded. "You been working on these bad boys?"

Dave shrugged. "Thanks for the help, honey." He went in to his bag and pulled out the baby wipes. "My clothes are soaked though. It's freezing; I've never wanted to take my shirt off so badly."

There was a small noise from behind them. The quartet turned to the disturbance. Brit, who had been obliviously swimming amongst the tide of jocks that had bullied Dave, beamed.

"Hi Kurtle!" she flounced over and hugged him. Kurt just stared at the remaining trio.

Dave looked down, cheeks staining red beneath the blue. Another witness to his slushy facial… that was just what Dave needed. "Hello, Kurt," he said quietly, not fully expecting a reply from him.

"… 'Sup."

Dave eyes shot up, and he regarded Kurt with a curious appreciation. He smiled softly at him. He would have attempted more conversation, had Blaine not pointed out that the bell had went. Dave conceded, and waved his friends off, before escorting Blaine to his homeroom.

Kurt found himself waving back, but he luckily managed to stop it before either of the girls turned back around. He couldn't believe that had just happened. Dave had… smiled at him; just him.

… Holy shit! Kurt had actually talked to him! He had almost started a real conversation with him! He broke in to a giddy grin, watching him walk away with—

… Wait. Did that runt go here now?

God damn it…

Brit was talking to him about something, and from the way she was looking at him, she had clearly just asked him a question. Kurt panicked, and then nodded. "Yes."

She looked elated. "Great! See you at lunch!" She flounced off up the stairs.

"You're with Dave, Brit!" Santana called after her.

Brittany giggled, span on her heels, and ran after Dave. Kurt couldn't help but laugh at her. She was adorable, even if she wasn't his type.

Santana turned on him. "I don't like you; I'm only going to put up with you at this audition because my girl Brit seems to think you're a dolphin that needs to be swam with or whatever. But I'm warning you now Porcelain; you pull any of your usual stunts, and I'll go Lima Heights on your ass. Got it?"

Kurt could have rebuked the accusations of his dolphinhood (he could only assume it was a bad thing if Santana thought it was funny), or told her that his usual stunts were imaginary slights concocted by Puckerman's paranoid mind. Instead, he concentrated on his after-school plans. "I'm what?"

"The audition. Glee club. After school." She smirked. "Oh… I'm going to have fun with this. I'll see you later, Hummel."

…Shit.

* * *

Mr Schuester applauded as Finn finished his song. "Well done Finn! I love the emotion behind it. Tainted Love is a classic."

Santana leaned in to Blaine. "You can never tell if he dedicating his puppy songs to Q or Snozberry. It's as desperate as it is nauseating."

But Blaine wasn't listening. He was too focused on the seat two rows in front, and the boy who sat there, completely isolated from the rest of New Directions. The letterman he sorted was far too big for him, but it was sort of charming. And he had such a sweet smile…

He'd heard mixed reviews about Kurt Hummel, but honestly… he was the most handsome boy he had ever seen. Even if he was tragically straight, Blaine couldn't quite suppress the gleeful little bubble that exploded in him whenever he thought about what might be under that pile of ill-sitting fabric.

He made his excuse, and swiftly took the seat next to Kurt. "Hey there, I'm Blaine. You're Kurt, right?"

Kurt turned to him and shrugged. "Hey. You're the, uh… boyfriend, right?"

"No! I'm single! Totally and completely unattached." … What was he doing? "Uh, yes. Single."

"… Good for you." Still, he couldn't help the smugness of knowing that Dave wasn't with this guy.

"Thanks! Are you enjoying the auditions?"

"Uh-huh."

Blaine smiled. This was going well! "Thinking of auditioning?"

"No way in hell."

Blaine was about to pursue the matter further, when Mr Schuester tapped the microphone. "Next up is Tina Cohen-Chang."

The club applauded for her, and Kurt too found himself clapping. She was Mike's girl after all, and he and Mike got on pretty well; Mike wasn't like the other douche bags on the team. The clapping quickly tapered off when Tina stepped on the stage.

Kurt had never seen her in anything but her Gothic garb. If the stunned faces of her friends were anything to go by, neither had they. Kurt stole a quick glance at Mike, and saw he too was amazed. Tina floated on stage in a flowing white robe, looking strangely tranquil and ethereal. She walked over to the microphone.

"We've prepared a duet," she said softly. "It's also a story. So please… enjoy."

Dave came on stage, pushing a table and chair on wheels. He had changed out of his clothes from before, and in to something a lot more… Davey. He wore a long white coat, almost like a lab coat, fitted with all sorts of strange copper pieces. On his head, he wore a top hat, with a curious cog design. Dave looked so… vintage and theatrical.

Kurt couldn't do anything but sit back with a soft smile. He looked sort of sexy in those glasses and that coat; sort of like the thoughtful college professor.

His mind quickly filled with thoughts of dirty role-plays of "yes, sir" and being a very, very naughty boy…

He hadn't thought about Dave topping before now. Now that he had, he could totally see it. It was hot to just think about how aggressive the pacifist could be if he were given the right incentive.

Luckily, before Kurt could formulate a fantasy to accompany these thoughts, which would end disastrously for him, the music started. The sound of a typewriter echoed around the auditorium, and Kurt sat up just a bit straighter as he realised that Dave was about to sing.

Dave sat on the chair, and started to type. "_Monday the twenty-sixth of March; the patient's passing seizures are becoming more pronounced by the day. The underlying cause seems to be some slow progressive decay. If I don't find a cure, I fear my patient must surely fade away. But I swear I'll apply my science to the cause brooking no defiance. I'll deliver her from this malady! She'll dance again!_"

Tina began her chilling chorus of "aah"s as Dave stood out of his chair, and gestured wildly at her standing. He continued his song. _"And I'll never forget when we first were courting; and she faced me, and her eyes were gleaming in the moonlight, and she spoke so sweetly…_"

Now Tina sang her voice haunting in the near silence. "_Don't let me go, my darling. Hold me safely 'til the morning. Promise, when the lights are fading you'll save me._"

Dave moved back to his seat, and Kurt was struck by just how sexy Dave's voice was. It was so deep, and rugged, and so… _masculine_. The closeted part of him shrieked that he shouldn't find it so arousing to simply hear that deep baritone; the part of him infatuated with Dave pushed those thought to the side, concentrating solely on that sexy crooning.

_"Tuesday the seventeenth of May. A worrying symptom has reared its head this week. She's been bedbound for a month; and now the patient is no longer able to speak. She tries to utter sounds! But the grip of the illness is strong and the patient is weak. On the bed, in a cold sweat, like a corpse, but she'll live yet. When I find the cure, I can surely promise she'll laugh again_."

Again, he was up. It was amazing how that simple gesture moved the story on. "_As she did on our wedding day—when we danced, and laughed the world away! Even now I can hear her say…_"

"_Don't let me go, my darling. Hold me safely 'til the morning. Promise, when the lights are fading you'll save me_."

Blaine was stirring next to him, but Kurt couldn't look away from the stage. Tina was brilliant with him. Both of them were incredible; Kurt didn't know why they hadn't performed in assembly before. This was a welcome change from the 80's love duets Rachel and Finn so favoured.

_"Sunday the twenty-third of June. The patient no longer responds to stimuli of any kind. She's now my only charge. I clothe her and feed her, and nightly I read by her side. For though she's paralysed I know that inside there must still be a functioning mind. Neatly laid on the bed sheet, I can still hear her fading heart-beat. I'll keep her stable and continue my research. She'll smile again!_"

Dave voice was becoming rougher, almost a growl. Kurt picked up his bag and put it in his lap after a particularly husky note. This was just humiliating… "_And I must bring her back to me! In her eyes I can see the gleam! In my mind I can hear her pleading…_"

"_Don't let me go, my darling. Hold me safely 'til the morning. Promise, when the lights are fading you'll save me._"

Blaine seemed really close all of sudden, though just as captivated as Kurt was with the singing. This was nothing like the previous songs he'd heard the glee kids sing. This was… actually good. He took out his notepad, and started scrawling out lyrics, to download later.

"_Tuesday the eighteenth of July. My latest apparatus is the only thing that's keeping her alive. I had to stop her heart. The mechanical replacement will ensure the other organs will survive. Her body is destroyed. But what nature has neglected the fruit of modern science shall provide. And I've broken every code of practice; but for my love I'd shift the planet's axis. She'll return to me when she's been repaired; she'll live again!_"

"_And I swear I can see the gleam in her eyes, amidst the new machines. And at night I can hear her whisper…"_

"_Don't let me go, my darling. Hold me safely 'til the morning. Promise, when the lights are fading you'll save me. You'll save me…_"

The song faded off, and the pair stood together nervously. The club cheered, though it sounded more like a courtesy applause than anything. Kurt didn't clap with them, still awed by their performance. He really didn't understand why he hadn't seen this before.

Mr Schuester tapped on the microphone. "That was, uh… great guys. Very theatrical, but I don't think you quite got the assignment."

Dave sighed and took off his hat. "The assignment was to sing what we learned this summer. Tina and I learned we work well together, and that she looks amazing in white."

Tina giggled and linked arms with David. "Mr Schue, this is the first time I've made it through an entire song."

"But guys…" He sighed. "Maybe next time you could pick a more contest-friendly song."

The pair looked dejected and walked off the stage. Now Kurt was seeing why the pair hadn't ever performed. Glee club was set up just like every other clique in the school; teacher had his favourites, his stars; everyone else could do what they want, as long as they didn't usurp the hierarchy.

Will Schuester was a just dictator with a ridiculous Spanish accent.

"Bullshit," he hissed and he stood up. Only Blaine watched him as he stormed away. He couldn't afford to be in trouble on his first day of school.

Glee club was pure bullshit; plain and simple.

* * *

**As always, feel free to interact with our Kurt on his Tumblr page piningfromnarnia. And reviews/likes are loved very much! And thank you for your continued support! The actual song is called "The Doctor's Wife" by The Clockwork Quartet.**


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